


...don't fix it

by stjarna



Series: If it ain't broke... don't fix it [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Dog - Freeform, Engineering VS Biochem, F/M, First Date, Fluff, Fluffyfest, Follow-up, Peanut Butter, Team Engineering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 22:49:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11542041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Follow-up to"If it ain't broke..."





	...don't fix it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Little_Lady_Bug](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Lady_Bug/gifts).



> For Little_Lady_Bug, who may have said something about wanting to read about their date.
> 
> Banner by me.
> 
> Big Thank you to @itsavolcano for being my beta.

 

Jemma hustles through her apartment, nervously glancing around to ensure that everything is neat and tidy. She returns to the kitchen, peeking inside the oven to check the lasagna is bubbling nicely, before checking her watch.

K9 is circling her feet, clearly picking up on her owner’s nervousness and eyeballing her with worried brown eyes.

Jemma smiles and bends down to pick up her dog. She scrunches her nose in excited anticipation of Fitz’s arrival, before placing a quick peck to K9’s fur, who begins to squirm impatiently.

“He’ll be here any moment now,” Jemma tells her black, little fluffball, her voice chipper before furrowing her brows. “Unless he’s late. Oh God, I hope he’s not late. What if he’s tardy?”

K9 begins to wiggle in her hands, likely unhappy about being held for this long. Jemma chuckles at her dog’s squirminess. “Well, he’s always been very timely with his repairs, and he confirmed this morning that we were still on for our date, so I presumably have absolutely nothing to worry about, don’t you think K9?”

K9 lets out a little yelp, moving her bum side to side even more furiously, pleading with her owner to let her back to the ground. Jemma smiles and complies, looking up when she hears the doorbell.

“Well, there you have it, K9? All worries for naught! He’s right on time.”

Jemma presses her palm against her chest, as if it would somehow help to calm her nervous heartbeat. She inhales slowly and walks towards the door, stopping only briefly to take one final look in the mirror.

_A loose ponytail. Subtle makeup. Jeans, a blouse (not tucked in), bare feet. Casual, but nice._

Jemma adjusts her ponytail one last time, before taking the last few steps to her front door. She exhales sharply, peeks through the peephole to ensure that it’s truly who she’s expecting, and can’t stop her lips from pulling just about all the way to her ears when she sees him on the other side of the door.

His head is slightly turned to the side, his fingers nervously scratching at the back of his neck, and his jaw restlessly moving from side to side.

Jemma opens the door and her lips somehow manage to pull even wider when she notices how Fitz’s eyes light up at the sight of her.

“Hi,” he mutters quietly, one corner of his mouth ticked up rather adorably.

“Hello,” Jemma replies, surprised by how raspy her voice sounds.

Fitz’s eyes dart to the ground when K9 exits the door, sniffing at his feet and circling his legs once, her little furry head looking up at him in curious confusion.

He grins, slowly lifting his eyes from the dog to Jemma. “So, that’s K9?”

“Yes it is.” Jemma bends down to pick up her little ball of fur and Fitz carefully stretches out his hand, allowing K9 to sniff it before gently scratching her head.

“Cutest, little phone killer I’ve ever seen.”

Jemma laughs out loud while Fitz’s eyes wander to K9. Suddenly he seems strangely focused on his fingers combing through the dog’s fur when he adds more quietly, “Present company excluded maybe.”

Jemma draws in a surprised breath, her heart beating excitedly over his compliment. She clears her throat, trying to come up with a reply when Fitz pulls back his hand, causing K9 to extend her little head as far as possible to try and get the visitor to pet her again.

“I got her something,” Fitz remarks as he begins rummaging through the bulging pocket of his jacket.

Jemma’s mouth gapes slightly ajar, as she cradles K9 against her chest to calm down the squirmy dog. “You did? Oh but you didn’t have to—”

She stops and laughs when Fitz pulls out a phone-shaped chew toy. K9 inspects it curiously before carefully grabbing it with her teeth. “That was very kind of you. She’ll love you forever now.”

Fitz shrugs, one corner of his mouth ticked up and his blue eyes gazing straight at Jemma. “That was the plan.”

The butterflies in Jemma’s stomach begin to flutter so vigorously that Jemma has to look down for a moment to find her composure. She uses the opportunity to let K9 back on the floor and her dog waddles into the apartment straight for her dog bed, proudly carrying her new toy. Jemma gestures into her living room. “Would you like to come in?”

Fitz lips pull into a wide smile. “Definitely.”

He follows Jemma inside and looks around the living room area, seemingly admiring her home, before looking back at her, his right hand buried in his jacket pocket. “I brought you something, too.”

Jemma gestures at herself in surprise. “Me? But—”

He pulls a glass jar from his pocket, holding it up so that Jemma can see the label, and Jemma closes her eyes in embarrassment, trying to suppress a chuckle when she reads “Natural Creamy Peanut Butter.”

Slowly, she opens her eyes, feeling the blush creep up her cheeks.

A teasing smile plays on his lips, and his eyes sparkle with mischief. “Figured you might be out.”

Jemma can’t help but laugh out loud. Graciously, she accepts his present, turning the jar in her hand, her thumb gliding over the smooth surface. She looks back up as another quiet chuckle escapes her lips. “I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Probably not,” Fitz replies, grinning cheekily.

“Fair enough.” Jemma chuckles, lifting the jar a bit higher and reading over the label once more. “I don’t even like peanut butter.”

“You don’t?” Fitz looks at her wide-eyed, his lips still pulled into a smile. “Please don’t tell me you bought peanut butter for the sole purpose of smearing it onto your phone so that your dog could chew it up.”

Jemma tilts her head to the side, rolling her eyes slightly. “No. I had some at home. K9 had to take these pills a little while back and the vet recommended smearing a bit of peanut butter on them. It worked like a charm and so now I keep it as an extra special treat for her.”

“Good.” Fitz laughs quietly, before his hand shoots up to his neck and he nervously scratches the skin below his ear. “‘Cause… ‘cause I already feel guilty enough considering everything you’ve had to do, just to get my idiot arse to realize that you—”

“Nobody made me do anything,” Jemma interjects. “If I hadn’t been so tongue-tied around you for some bizarre reason, then—”

Fitz gestures at her with his palm facing up. “But the whole thing cost you a fortune, and if Daisy hadn’t pushed my nose in the proverbial peanut butter, then God knows how many more tech devices you would have had to destroy and… I mean… I feel like I should repay your or something.”

“Well.” Jemma lifts the jar of peanut butter demonstratively in the air. “You’ve already got a head start now.”

He laughs out loud. “Gonna take a lot of peanut butter to make up for what you paid for the repairs.”

“Well, I think it might just have been worth it.” Jemma can’t help but grin like a fool in love.

“An investment into my future,” she adds quietly, letting her gaze wander to the ground before looking up to gauge his reaction.

For a moment they both seem lost in each other’s eyes, until Jemma clears her throat, gesturing towards the dining table. “Shall we?”

A smile flashes across Fitz’s face, and he nods in agreement. “Yes. It smells delicious.”

* * *

“Alright.” Jemma lets her eyes wander over the coffee table, pointing at various bowls and items, neatly organized on the smooth, wooden surface. “Popcorn. Check. Crisps. Check. Beer. Check. Water. Check. Soft drinks. Check. Glasses. Check. M&Ms. Check. Grapes. Check. Wasabi almonds. Check. Dried fruit. Check. Napkins. Check. Remotes. Check. I think we got everything.”

She turns her head to look at Fitz, who’s sitting on the couch, leaning slightly forward, his forearms resting on his knees. One corner of his mouth is ticked up, and his eyes sparkle teasingly. “How many people were you expecting?”

Jemma stares at him with pretend sternness. “I like to offer my guests a wide variety of foods and beverages to ensure that they find something they truly enjoy. It’s called being a good hostess.”

“I admire your talent for preparation.” Fitz reaches out and grabs a handful of crisp, popping them into his mouth and crunching loudly. “When friends come to my place, they’re lucky if there are any crisps left at all.”

Jemma chuckles quietly, before grabbing two bottles of beer and handing Fitz one of them. “So, now what would you like to watch? I’ve already preselected some movies from each major genre. Sci-Fi. Fantasy. Action. Comedy. Romantic Comedy. Thriller. Documentary. Horror. Docudrama—” She pauses, when she notices Fitz gazing at her with wide-open eyes.

“I like being prepared,” she mumbles, her voice both defensive and apologetic.

A smile flashes across his face. “And I mentioned that I admire that,” he replies, his voice unusually quiet and raspy.

Jemma wets her lips, noticing the sudden dryness of the air around her and the sudden onset of heat rushing through her body. She clears her throat, before exhaling a quiet, sharp breath through her rounded lips, bringing her beer to her lips to distract herself.

“Well, then,” she remarks, her voice to the point of cracking. “What are you in the mood for?”

As soon as the sentence has left her mouth, she feels the blood rushing to her cheeks. Her initial embarrassment ebbs away slowly, when she sees Fitz’s ears turn red, as he jugs back a big gulp of his beer.

“Umm.” Fitz looks at her bewildered and nervous, wiping across his mouth with the back of his hand. “Umm. Maybe… maybe sci—”

He stops when the room suddenly goes dark.

“What the—?” he mutters under his breath.

Jemma’s mouth gapes ajar as her eyes wander around the dark room, before she slumps her shoulders. “Oh no.”

She turns when a bright light appears next to her and sees Fitz illuminated by his mobile phone’s flashlight. He pushes himself up from the couch and walks over to the window. “I think it’s just this building. Street lights are on. And plenty of illuminated windows across the street.”

“Ugh.” Jemma gets up herself and joins him by the window. “Yeah. We’ve had issues like this before. I’ll find some candles. Wouldn’t want you to unnecessarily drain your phone’s battery.”

Jemma goes to the kitchen, pulling out her bag of tea lights and a lighter. She grabs a few small plates, arranging the tea lights on them and placing the plates strategically around the living room, before lighting the candles. “There. I suppose that’ll do.”

She turns to face Fitz, who’s still standing by the window. “Usually our superintendent is very quick to respond to these situations. Hopefully it won’t be long until the power is back up. Then we can resume our previous plan.”

Fitz nods in agreement, his mouth opening slightly, seemingly preparing a reply, when a knock on the front door stops him. Both his and Jemma’s heads shoot around to look at the entrance.

“I’m sorry,” Jemma mumbles and heads to the door, taking a quick peek through the peephole before opening it.

She squints when Bobbi’s flashlight blinds her.

“Bobbi,” she welcomes her neighbor, smiling in a friendly manner.

“Hey,” the tall brunette replies, raising her eyebrows in frustration. “Guess it happened again, huh?”

“Certainly looks like it,” Jemma concurs. “I’m sure Mack’s already downstairs to fix it, though.”

Bobbi shakes her head. “Nah. He’s out of town, visiting his brother. He won’t be back until some time tomorrow. I tried calling his sub, Lance-something, but I’m not very hopeful. The guy sounded like he was completely shitfaced.”

“Ugh,” Jemma groans, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

“Maybe I can take a look?”

Jemma’s head shoots around and for a moment she stares in silence at Fitz. She hadn’t noticed that he’d walked closer to the front door.

When she looks back at Bobbi, she notices a wide, knowing smile plastered onto her neighbor’s face.

“Hi,” Bobbi remarks pointedly, stretching out her hand. “Bobbi Morse. I live across the hall.”

“Leopold Fitz.” Fitz accepts Bobbi’s hand, shaking it firmly. “But just Fitz will do.”

“Fitz is… he… he’s the repair guy from the tech shop I’ve told you about,” Jemma remarks, pleading silently with her friend to take the hint and leave without further commentary.

“Is he now?” Bobbi grins mischievously, still holding on to Fitz’s hand. “Well, nice to meet you, Fitz. From what Jemma has told me, there’s no one else she’d rather trust with her equipment.”

Jemma presses her lips together, trying not to gasp too loudly at her friend’s blatant innuendo. In panic, her eyes wander to Fitz, who luckily nods politely before tugging his hand back to free it from Bobbi’s grasp.

He looks back and forth between the two women, before pointing into the hallway. “So, should I take a look? I just need to know where the fuse box is. Most likely source of the problem.”

Bobbi shakes her head. “I wouldn’t do that. Mack once told me that there’s some stupid clause in the building’s insurance policy. Any repairs not carried out by authorized personnel won’t be covered. I’ll try that sub again, maybe if I yell it’ll sober him up. Sorry to barge in, Jemma. Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Thank you, Bobbi,” Jemma replies, tilting her head to the side. “Good luck with this Lance person.”

She closes the door, sighing deeply and slumping her shoulders in disappointment, before turning to face Fitz. “I’m sorry this cuts our movie night short. Maybe we could reschedule for another time.”

“Oh.” Fitz’s eyes widen in sudden surprise. He pulls his hand out of his pocket, scratching his forehead, before gesturing at Jemma. “Sure. I mean… yes, definitely, but—”

He turns on his heels, his eyes aimlessly wandering around the room as if he were looking for something. Finally, he lands on the TV, taking a few steps in its direction and pointing at it. “But, maybe I should stay until the power comes back on. I mean… the surge could have damaged your TV, and I’d be able to tell and… and could repair it.”

He looks at her a bit like a deer caught in headlights, his hands gliding nervously up and down his thighs.

A smile flashes across Jemma’s face at his adorable attempt to come up with an excuse to stay longer. She tilts her head, shrugging slightly, and takes a step towards him. “That… that’s a very good point. Plus, it would be nice to have some company in the dark, I suppose.”

Jemma briefly glances at K9, who’s deeply asleep on her dog bed, before meeting Fitz’s eyes again. “K9 hates being alone in the dark.”

The corner of Fitz’s mouth twitches into the hint of a smile and there’s an excited sparkle in his eyes. He clears his throat and Jemma feels her heart beat quicker when he takes a step forward, slowly reaching out his hand and somewhat hesitantly grabbing Jemma’s hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

“Wouldn’t want K9 to be alone,” he says quietly, his tone deep and more flirtatious than Jemma’s ever heard it before.

“Can’t have that,” Jemma whispers in reply, her eyes fixed on his.

“Although it’s not fully dark.” Fitz steps even closer, taking her free hand in his. “There are candles.”

“That’s true.” Jemma’s not even sure if her voice is even still audible.

His eyes are soft and Jemma can’t help but stare intensely at the way he licks his lower lip before thoughtfully biting down on it. “They make you look radiant… even more than—”

But he doesn’t get further than that when Jemma surges forward, capturing his lips with hers.


End file.
